Four Postwar Interviews
by Violets and Lilies
Summary: Women were allowed to officially serve in the United States military for the first time during World War Two. Now that the war is over, Kit is just itching to know what they accomplished. When her hometown newspaper decides to feature an article about the newly established units, Kit finds herself with the task of interviewing a WAC, a WAVE, a WASP, and a SPECS.
1. Kit Interviews a WAC

"Margret Mildred Kittredge, ma'am," Kit said, giving her full name to the elderly woman behind the counter at the registration office at Ft. Des Moines, Iowa. The Second World War had officially ended only weeks earlier, but most members of the military had yet to arrive home.

The Cincinnati Register, Kit's hometown newspaper, had dispatched her on what she, in her young journalism career, believed was the assignment of a lifetime. For the next few weeks, she would travel all around the country to interview four women who had, for the first time, officially served with in various branches of United States military. She would interview a WAC, a WAVE, a WASP, and a SPECS, then write an article detailing how these new units had contributed to the Allies winning the war.

Ft. Des Moines had been the first WAC training center, so her journey would begin there.

Kit knew what a special this opportunity was. During the war, the Army had kept the press away, not wanting any critical information floating around in the public domain. She was also well aware that, during the war, WACs had been the subject of some slanderous reporting in the press, mainly by newspapers columnists who wanted to harm the new program by spreading untrue reports about the conduct of these women who not only worked closely with men, but also worked under the male-dominated culture in the military. Now, Kit hoped that her article would do justice to these special women.

The woman behind the counter handed her a press pass and pointed down the hallway, "First Officer Noah is waiting in the third room on the left—I'm sorry, but they'll only giving you an hour. What with the war over, most of the stateside WAC's are packing up to go home."

"Thank you," Kit nodded in understanding, "I suspected that I wouldn't have a lot of time." She smiled warmly, "They were quite generous to give me the hour."

She hurried down the hall, pausing briefly to knock gently before she pushed the door open. On the other side, she found a tall beaming young woman, not quite thirty years of age.

Tucking her shoulder-length auburn curls behind her ear, First Officer Noah stood up, smoothed her already well starched uniform, and extended her hand, "Please, call me Allie."

"Only if you'll call me Kit."

"It's a deal, Kit."

The two women slid into their seats and Kit asked her first question almost before her pen was posed over her paper.

"When did you join the Women's Army Corp, Allie?"

"Oh, just as soon as I could after the program was announced in 1942. The Army let you sign up if your twenty-one through forty-five, at least five feet tall, and one hundred pounds or more. Space was limited, so I was thrilled to get in with the first group to train as an officer. Over thirty-five thousand girls applied for the first thousand positions, so I was ecstatic when I found out that I'd made it. A lot of the girls who didn't make the cut to be an officer came back see if they could fill an enlisted spot though, so a lots of them got in that way."

As an afterthought, she added, "They called it the Women's Auxiliary Army Corp—or W-A-A-C back when it started, because the bigwigs didn't want girls spoiling the Army's culture. But by 1943—a little over a year later—we'd proved to be such great help that they made us fully part of the Army—and dropped "auxiliary" out of the name."

"What made you want to join up?"

"Oh, I have five brothers who went off to war. There wasn't any way that I was going to get left at home while they were out there fighting to keep our country safe. I must say, Mother and some of her friends didn't like the idea me going into the Army at first, but they came around pretty well after a while. I still don't think I could describe how happy I was when my mother told me that she was proud that I was serving like my brothers." Then she added, "I was also wonderful to hear men like General Eisenhower and General MacArthur give the WAC's special praise too."

"How did the WAC start up?"

"Well, the idea came from Mrs. Edith Nourse Rogers, a Congresswoman from Massachusetts. Back in 1941, she told General George C. Marshall, the Chief of Staff, that she wanted to establish Women's Corp. that was separate and distinct from the existing Army's Nurses Corp. Unfortunately, her idea didn't gain steam till after Pearl Harbor, but President Roosevelt signed the bill into law in 1942 and Mrs. Oveta Clup Hobby—she's the wife of former Texas Governor William P. Hobby—was appointed as our first director."

"What gave Congresswoman Rogers the idea to start the WAC?"

"She remembered that during the First World War, women had voluntarily served overseas, but they didn't get any official recognition. That meant that they had to get their own food and living quarters and they had no legal protection or right to medical care. Then, when they got home, they couldn't get the disability benefits or pensions like the guys were eligible for. She wanted to change that and she figured that the best way to do it was to get us into the Army."

"WAC's got paid a little differently, didn't they?" Kit asked.

"Yes," Allie, confirmed, "As a First Officer, my rank was comparable to that of a Captain, but I got paid the same as a First Lieutenant." Then she shrugged, "Could I go off the record for a minute?"

"Sure," Kit replied.

"Well see, I suppose I can see where the unequal pay thing might be an issue later on, but as for me, during the war, when we were fighting so hard to keep this country and our allies safe and free, I was just glad to do my part to help out. I thought winning the war was more important than worrying over who got paid what and I know a lot of girls who'd say the same thing."

"There now, you can go back on the record—hmm, I think that last bit could go in too."

They both laughed, then Kit continued, "What was basic training like?"

"We had the same basic training as the men, except for combat training. We did physical training and learned administration skills and about military justice, first-aid, military customs and courtesies and how drills and ceremonies are done. We also learned how to read maps and how to maintain and use equipment."

Allie's eyes lit up then, "I think my favorite part of training was our bivouac week—that's a week of living under field conditions. Oh! They also let us learn how to fire a carbine rifle, if we wanted too. That was voluntary though."

She grinned, "I got to be pretty good."

Kit asked, "What kind of jobs did WAC's do in the Army?"

"Oh, we did all sorts of things!" Allie enthused, "The first batch of us—officers and enlisted women alike—were sent to various Aircraft Warning Service units to work the filter boards. That's what I did because I joined at the very beginning. We plotted and traced the path of every airplane to come into our area. There was always about twenty girls at each station. Gosh, it was a boring job sometimes, waiting for the phone to ring and tell us of an aircraft sighting, but we did it and we did it well."

"Later on," Allie continued, "WAC graduates were formed into companies and sent into three different divisions of the Army: the Army Air Force, Army Ground Forces, and Army Service Forces. At first, those girls did clerical work or small rudimentary jobs like file clerks, typists, stenographers, and motor pool drivers—a motor pool is a secure designated area for personal to park vehicles."

"After a while," Allie continued, "the Army figured out that we could do a lot more, and they let us. I can't imagine how many guys were freed up to go fight in the war when the top brass figured out that women were good competent workers."

"The Army Air Force put girls to work as weather observers and forecasters, cryptographers, radio operators and repairman—or repairwomen."

The two women laughed, then Allie continued.

"Let's see, WACs were sheet metal workers, parachute riggers, Link trainers—that is, we trained pilots in a fight simulator to fly with just their instruments. The simulators are named after their inventor, a guy named Edwin Link."

"WACs were also bombsight maintenance specialists, aerial photograph analysts, and control tower operators and we worked with statistical control tabulating machines—they kept personal records."

Allie beamed, "By this past January, only fifty percent of WAC's were still working the traditional clerical jobs. That's really something, isn't it?

It is indeed," Kit replied, with a delighted smile.

"Not too many girls served with the Ground Forces, and the ones that did got reassigned in a heartbeat if they weren't up to the tough standards. In the Antiaircraft Artillery Command, the girls got to teach antiaircraft defense to the guys and they served in the control tower to keep the tow-target plane—that's the decoy—on course. They also gave fire signals over the telephone and computed the correct angle and accuracy of the fire."

"In Armored, Field Artillery, and Cavalry Schools, the girls repaired and installed radios in tanks, bantams—that's the new Army Jeep that came out in 1940—and other vehicles. We also trained the guys to send and receive codes."

"There was a lot of debate about WACs serving with the Ground Forces at all, but there was a shortage of guys for the positions they put us in, what with so many needed overseas, so we got the call. I'm just glad that they gave us a chance and we proved them right."

"That _is_ awesome," Kit agreed.

Allie went on, "The girls that served in the Army Service Forces—and that ended up being forty percent of WAC graduates—went on to serve in several different departments. In the Ordnance Department, they computed the velocity of bullets, measured bomb fragments, mixed gunpowder, and loaded shells. Others were draftsmen, mechanics, electricians, and ordnance engineers."

"In the Transportation Corps, we processed men for overseas assignments, handled personal files, and issued weapons. Near the end of last year, the Army experimented by assigning WAC's as radio operators on three hospital ships. The Larkspur, the Charles A. Stafford, and the Blanche F. Sigman each took three enlisted girls and one officer. The experiment worked out, and WAC's got assigned to more hospital ships after that."

"The girls that were assigned to the Chemical Warfare Service worked in both laboratories and in the field. They were glassblowers and made test tubes and they tested walkie-talkies and surveying and meteorology equipment."

"In the Quartermasters Corps, the girls kept track of the stockpiles of supplies in depots across the country—that means that we inspected and procured supplies, and managed stock-control and storage. We also had fiscal and contract termination oversight."

"In the Signal Corps, the girls were switchboard, radio and telegraph operators, cryptographers, photographers and map analysts. Photographers were trained to develop and print photos, repair cameras, mix emulsions, and finish negatives. Map analysts were taught to assemble, mount, and interrupt mosaic maps."

"And, last, but far from least," Allie said, drawing a deep breath, "the girls in the Army Medical Department became laboratory, surgical, X-ray, and dental technicians, and also medical secretaries and ward clerks." A bright smile of satisfaction spit Allie's face, "They freed up the Army nurses to take care of our boys."

"_Wow_!" Kit said, "That _is_ an amazing array of assignments. I have to admit, it's more than I had imagined. Did WAC's have to adhere to any special rules?"

"Oh my, yes!" Allie said, growing serious again, "Other than the regular Army rulers and regulations that we were subject too, Mrs. Hobby made it clear that if we got pregnant, we'd be dismissed." She paused then added, "I have to say, I know some folks spoke out against that rule, but I was perfectly okay with it. I know I couldn't have done my job as well if I had a baby inside me."

"Were WAC's allowed to serve overseas?"

"Yes, yes. I was in England for almost a year and my best friend was in North Africa for a while. I also know a few girls who were assigned to places in the Pacific."

"While I was in England, I didn't get to take in very any tourist attractions, but I was there to do my job, so I didn't mind." Then her eyes lit up, "Oh, I did get to met Princess Elizabeth! She came to see us in action one day while I was on duty. She was super nice."

Next, Kit posed an increasingly delicate question, "Is the WAC segregated?"

"Yes, we are—like the rest of the Army. There were forty candidates of color with me in the first training sessions. We took meals and did our training together, but all the base facilities were segregated, as were the units that we were sent to after basic training." Then she added, "Those girls came from the same sort of background as the rest of us though—college educated, then worked as teachers or in some office somewhere."

"Alright, one last question," Kit said, noticing their hour was winding down, "If you can tell me, what did you do on your most interesting day at work?"

"Oh well," Allie blushed, "I had settle an argument between two pilots who wanted to take off at the same time. Apparently, they were buddies who'd gotten into an off-duty squabble at some bar the night before and they were intent on carrying on with their "discussion"—as they called it—while they were on duty. I won't name names now, because that's not my place now that the war is over, but I'm afraid that's as lively a day as I can talk about."

She smiled coyly, "Maybe in another thousand years, I'll be able to tell about other things, but the Army doesn't like its people to kiss and tell so soon after a war has ended."

* * *

**Author's Notes**: First off, I'd like to say that, while the factual things in the interview are true, I made a good deal of the other stuff up. Even the name "Allie Noah" is made up, coming from the first names of the two main characters of Nicholas Sparks' book, _The Notebook_. I also made up the incident on First Officer Noah's most interesting day. It sprang up as a fairly dumb down version of a story my uncle, who served in Vietnam, tells about from when he was stationed in Italy during peacetime.

**A Look Back**: WAC personal served in both Korea and Vietnam, doing the same types of jobs that the early WACs did but, eventually, the Army desired to assimilate its women more closely into its structure and eliminate any feelings of separateness, so the WAC was discontinued on Oct. 29, 1978, by an act of Congress.


	2. Kit Interviews a WAVES

Kit arrived at the New Federal Building in New Orleans, Louisiana, which was the headquarters of the Eight Naval District, and forced herself to give the young woman behind the counter a cheerful smile as she handed over her paperwork. She'd come straight from the train station, having just disembarked after an arduous trip from Des Moines and she was exhausted. The sights, sounds, and smells of the bustling old southern city had instantly assailed and somewhat shocked her mid-western mind, but she'd shaken it off. She was here to do a job.

"Ah yes," the clerk said, after briefly scanning the papers, "You're the reporter from the Cincinnati Register."

"Yes, ma'am," Kit replied, unable to keep weariness from creeping into her voice.

The woman smiled sympathetically. "You've had a long trip, am I right?"

"I just came from Des Moines, ma'am" Kit answered, then sighed, "I don't think it took as long as it felt like though. The sailor next to me kept bugging me for a date. He just couldn't get it into his thick skull that I have a boyfriend."

The clerk rolled her eyes and huffed, "It does seem like sailors have less of a reputation if they didn't act like they'd never seen a female after they get off their ships—notwithstanding their months and months at sea." Then she snapped back to business and pointed down the hall, "Ensign Landon was especially thrilled that we chose her to speak on behalf of the WAVES. She's waiting in the third room on your left."

"Thank you, ma'am, I'm excited to be here too."

"But, mind you, you only have a hour." the clerk called out as Kit hurried down the hall, "Now that the war is over, the girls will be heading home soon."

"Yes ma'am," Kit replied, turning around briefly, "I knew that I wouldn't have long. Thank you."

She pushed the door open and beheld a tall strikingly lovely brunette with green eyes. Ensign Landon's long wavy hair was tightly penned up and her uniform looked as crisp as the day it was made. She extended her hand to welcome Kit with a gracious smile, "Please, call me Jamie."

"Hello, I'm Kit."

The two women sat down and Kit, as she had done in Des Moines, asked her first question almost before she'd opened her pen.

"The acronym WAVES has a different meaning than one might think of when one thinks of an acronym for a military unit. Will you explain it?"

"Sure," Jamie replied, "It stands for Women Accepted for Volunteer Emergency Service. That implies, of course, that the Navy brought us in due to the extraordinary times that the last four years have presented, but that's not really the whole story. The Navy accepted women into their ranks thirty years ago too, during the First World War. In that war we were only allowed to be in the enlisted ranks, but we were allowed to be officers too this time around."

"The first female officer," she continued, "was commissioned three years ago in August—that's Lt. Commander Mildred McAfee. She was President at Wellesley College before the war, but agreed to come on and be our first director. As I understand it, she's going to go back to Wellesley once her time in the Navy is done."

"I just came from Des Moines," Kit said, "where I interviewed a woman who served in the WAC. She said that Congress passed special legislation to create that unit. Is that true for WAVES?"

Jamie nodded seriously, "Yes, indeed. First Lady Eleanor Roosevelt wanted to have a counterpart for the WAC within the Navy. She was very instrumental in pushing Congress to act and the WAVES was created just two months after the WAC. President Roosevelt signed the law on July 30, 1942 and within the first year, 27,000 girls signed up. By the end of it, there were 84,000 WAVES—8,000 of whom were officers. That comes out to be 2.5 percent of the Navy's wartime personal strength."

"Our unit," she continued, "went through much of the same initial opposition as our sisters in the Army—both from the general public and people in office—but, like them, our situation changed once there was a crisis. I think necessity breeds tolerance just as much as it breeds invention."

"WAVES, unlike our sisters in the Army, have always been a part of the Navy," Jamie said, talking on, "we were never an auxiliary unit. Officially, we're called the Women's Reserve, but calling us WAVES was what stuck. I always thought it was great—if not sort of funny—that they came up with an acronym like WAVES for a Navy unit. Isn't it interesting how words can be put together to make acronyms?"

"It sure is," Kit laughed, "It sort of makes me wonder how long they spent creating it—it's so perfect." Then she asked, "The WAC in Des Moines said that their unit was very popular to sign with, I take it that you'd say the same about the WAVES,"

"You bet!" Jamie enthused, her eyes sparkling, "We were created, similarly to the WAC, to free up the boys for sea duty. During the first year, the WAVES enrolled over three times the numbers that were expected during the legislative debates."

"In fact," she continued, "the number of guys freed up during that first year was so tremendous that entire staffs of men disappeared from land-based stations. The Navy estimates that those first WAVES freed up enough guys to outfit one battleship, two large aircraft carriers, two heavy cruisers, four light cruisers, and fifteen destroyers."

"Simply _amazing_!" Kit said, unable to think of anything else to say.

Jamie continued, "In 1943, the Navy, with Congressional approval, lifted the limitations that WAVES had in regard to pay or promotion. That made us feel really good—we felt like we were a part of things then, for better or worse."

"For better or worse?" Kit asked.

Jamie laughed good-naturedly, "Sure, the Navy is a tough place to work. Personally, I've thrived in its structure and discipline, but if someone isn't up to it, then they'd better not sign up. We run a tight ship—pun intended."

"What kind of regulations did you have to adhere too?"

"Oh, the same things as the guys," Jamie answered, "only with a feminine slant. Oh, and surprise inspections were rampant!"

"Let's see," she said, thinking back, "There was our general appearance. We had to keep our hair short—above our collar—and they wanted us to keep our do's feminine. We were always encouraged to wear skirts and gloves. Just last year, Mrs. Josephine Forrestal—she's the wife of Assistant Secretary of the Navy, James Forrestal—asked the fashion designer Main Rousseau Bocher to create some stylish designs for us and he donated his designs to the Navy. We were all issued four uniforms, summer grays, summer dress whites, working blues, and dress blues."

"Then there was our housing accommodations." she said. Her green eyes widened at her memories, "At first they had dozens of us living together with shared shower and toilet facilities. There was also a Master at Arms living with us, just to make sure that the Navy's standards were adhered too."

"But thanks be to the WAVES leadership, they got approval for us to live with just two to four girls sharing the same space."

"Oh, I bet that made you feel better!" Kit said, with understanding.

"It sure did. That was a real morale boost! And, the best part is, it ended up proving what the Bureau of Medicine and Surgery was saying all along; the fewer the people that have to share the same space, the healthier those people will be."

"In big cities, like New York City or the Capitol," Jamie went on, "We lived in existing hotels and apartment buildings and used their facilities for dining and exercise just like any other guest. For most of the war, I served in Washington DC and shared an old apartment with three other girls in Georgetown. WAVES made up 75% of the personal at the Washington communications center."

"When I was in Des Moines," Kit said, "the WAC told me that the Army let them serve overseas, is this true with the WAVES?"

"No, our Army sisters _did_ get to travel a good deal farther than we did. Generally, we stayed in the continental US, but toward the end, they started sending us out a little more, to the Alaska and Hawaii and the Caribbean."

"It's understandable, really," she went on, "since the Navy fights at sea and WAVES didn't train to be sailors—in fact, we didn't do any combat training." She smirked slightly and shrugged, "They didn't want us spending endless weeks on ships with a bunch of guys."

"My best friend, Mary Ellen," she said, "went to Hawaii last year with the first group of WAVES to go there. They landed at Pearl Harbor on January sixth." She laughed, "I was jealous back then, even though she rode over on a troop transport ship. Man, _Hawaii_."

After a reflective pause, Jamie added, "I've heard, through the grapevine, that the Navy was going to send us to other places too, but the war is over now." She shrugged again, with a relived smile, "Personally, I'd rather the war be over than travel anywhere."

"Since WAVES didn't travel overseas much," Kit asked, "did that limit the unit in the amount of help you could give to our guys at sea?"

"Oh _no_!" Jamie said, looking offended, "We did just as much as any other women's unit to help win the war."

"Thirty years ago," she explained, calming down again, "Women did secretarial and clerical work in the Navy. Our rank, in the last war, was that of yeoman—or more popularly, yeomanette—and we started out doing the same jobs this time around. We took dictations, prepared reports, operated duplicating machines—those make copies of things, kept the sailors' personal records, and handled all the paperwork in regard to enlistments, transfers, promotions, and discharges—all through the Navy's filing system."

"I was a yeoman in Washington for most of this war, but my duties occasionally sent me to other places around the country."

"But, as I said before," she continued, "we got to do a good deal more this time around. To help Navy pilots, were trained as Aerographer's Mates, Aviation Machinist's Mates, and Aviation Metalsmiths."

"The Aerographer's Mates directed shore-based Naval Meteorology Observatory stations, took upper air soundings—that is, they measured the temperature, speed, and direction of wind currents above eighteen thousand feet and computed the data. Those girls were also trained to make weather observations, draw weather charts, and read weather codes—those are internationally recognized four-digit numbers that are used to report local weather conditions around the globe."

"The Aviation Machinist's Mates assembled and serviced planes. They learned how to splice wiring, make small parts, and make a plane's landing gear sea worthy—landing on the rolling deck of a ship is, of course, different than landing on solid ground, so the gear is treated differently. Those girls had to know the principles and theories of flying to do their job."

"The Aviation Metalsmiths repaired the planes metalworks—the radiators, pipe connections, instruments, and joints. They learned to build, bend, braze, weld, and electroplate pipes and how to use both welding outfits and hand or power tools."

"Of course, we can't forget about the guys jumping out of the planes, can we?" Jamie said smiling quickly, "WAVES were trained as parachute riggers for both personal and cargo."

"The girls that ran the radios and the telegraphers had to know the Navy's regulations on communication and security. They learned all the frequencies that the Navy uses and how type Morse Code. Their jobs were to operate their offices, send and receive messages, encrypt and decrypt codes, and repair their equipment when necessary."

"The WAVES in the medical department weren't simply more nurses. As Pharmacist's Mates, WAVES kept track of hospital and medical supplies and were trained to do minor surgery and first-aid and to prepare and administer simple medicines. Those girls had to have a rudimentary knowledge of anatomy, medicine, hygiene, and nursing, as well as know how to run an office."

"The Navy also trained us to do specialized duties. We operated the control towers, trained aviation gunners and trained pilots as link instructors—do you know what that is?"

"Yes," Kit replied, "The WAC in Des Moines told me."

"I figured that," Jamie said, then continued, "We used and maintained accounting machines—or other things pertinent to sales and pay within the Navy—and ran the Navy's post office. They also taught us to do everything relevant to photography and motion picture making too."

"Our cooks were our own. We WAVES handled cooking and serving meals on land, and we kept track of the food supplies headed out to sea too." Then she smiled at some memory, and added, "And, of course, we had the opportunity to train to be Masters-at-Arms."

She smirked, "The Navy is like a medieval castle, I suppose. We're fairly self-sustaining and we have our own way of doing things that's separate from the people on the other side of the wall, so to speak."

"We also got to work in the Navy's JAG Corps" Jamie continued, getting back to her explanation, "That's Judge Advocate General, or the military's judicial system. Each branch has a JAG Corp, although the Navy and Marines share one. The WAVES that worked in JAG got to be a part of some extraordinary times these last four years, because war rules are different than peacetime rules and it seems like, with every new war, new rules are made. Now that hostilities have ended, JAG will be at the forefront in the prosecution of the people charged with war crimes."

"Of course," she went on, "a lot of the things that I've talked about require more classroom time than some of the things that WAVES were eligible to do. There were a good many girls assigned to a duty station straight out of recruitment school. Those girls held the rank of Seaman, Second Class. They got to camouflage planes, be messenger and escorts, file clerks, truck drivers, line assistants, and comptometer operators."

"They also got to be commercial artists, assistant printers, bookkeepers, librarians, map makers, Multilith operators, and typists."

"Still others became Photostat operators, teletype operators, mechanical darftman, statistical clerk, lithographers, and research assistants."

"That _is_ a lot!" Kit agreed, then asked, "The WAC in Des Moines said that their unit was segregated, was this true of the WAVES?"

"No, we were fully integrated," Jamie replied, "We didn't accept any women of color at first, but since last November one in every thirty-seven girls that has signed up has been a woman of color. It's quite a feat for such a short time—less than a year—but the total number was just a tad under the cap set by the Navy at ten percent."

Kit glanced at the clock on the wall and stiffened. Where had their time gone?

"Wow, look at the time," she muttered, having enjoyed her time with the personable WAVES Ensign.

"Oh!" Jamie said, "Is it already time to go? I feel like we just got started."

"Me too," Kit replied, "But I do have time for one more question—and it's my favorite. What did you do on your most interesting day in the WAVES?"

"Oh, that's easy!" Jamie said, her eyes lighting up, "In 1942, my duties took me to the parachute school at the Naval Air Station in Lakehurst New Jersey. I saw one of our parachute riggers, a woman named Kathleen Robertson, actually test one of the chutes. Up till then, testing the chutes was the guy's responsibility, but Kathleen impressed her superiors so much that last year they started letting the WAVES have a go at it, if they wanted too. It took a while, but I enjoyed hearing that Kathleen convinced them that girls could jump."

* * *

**Author's Notes**: Like before, the factual stuff in this chapter is true, but I made the other stuff up—except Jamie's answer about her most interesting day. That part actually happened.

Jamie Landon got her name from the two main characters in Nicolas Sparks' book, A Walk to Remember. I don't really know where I came up with Mary Ellen's name, but I suppose it could have come from a woman who lives in the same Retirement Home as my grandmother.

**A Look Back**: The WAVES, unlike what the acronym implies, didn't disband after the war ended. Instead, with the Passage of the Women's Armed Services Integration Act in 1948, they became a permanent unit until 1978, when male and female Navy units were integrated.


	3. Kit Interviews a WASP

Kit breathed a sigh of relief as she stepped onto a quiet elm tree-lined street in Houston. Shielding her eyes from the oppressive Texas sun with one hand, she fumbled through her purse with the other to find something to pay the young man who'd given her a lift from the train station.

"No, ma'am," he drawled with a soft accent, shaking his head when he caught on to what she intended, "My mother would shoot me dead if she found out that I'd taken money for doing a good deed."

"You sure?" Kit asked, giving him the opportunity to change his mind.

"Yes, ma'am, I've got a lot of living to do now that this blasted war is over."

"That's for sure," Kit replied, flashing a quick smile, sheer excitement shooting up her spine at the mention of _living_ after so much death and destruction. She pointed to the big two story house with a wraparound porch, "This is where Mrs. Logan lives?"

"Yes, ma'am," he answered, "I went to school with Elizabeth before she went off to learn how to fly airplanes. I used to think that she was crazy for going off." Then he grinned, "But I guess her it worked out for her."

He gave Kit a friendly wave then slid into the driver's seat and headed down the road. She watched until he'd turned the corner then headed up the walkway, wondering anew why Elizabeth Logan had invited her to her home instead of conducting the interview at a WASP base. She used the enormous brass knocker to announce her presence and before long a tall graceful woman, in her early thirties, opened the door. Elizabeth's long straw blonde hair was neatly curled and penned, her pale green eyes sparkled with joy, and she had a small pregnancy bump.

"Come on in," the WASP invited, "Welcome to our home. You must be the girl from Cincinnati," She smiled; "I kicked my husband out for a little while, so that we could talk without interruption." Offering her hand, she added, "Please call me Beth."

"And you call me Kit."

"Will do. Would you like a drink? I just made lemonade."

"That sounds great. The coffee on the train was a little stale."

"Ugh," Beth made a face, "Lemonade coming right up." She pointed to a small parlor, "Make yourself at home. I'll be right back and we can get started."

Kit settled onto a window seat, overlooking the big elm trees and enjoyed the scent of the lilacs growing directly under the window until she heard soft laugher behind her.

"I love the smell of lilacs too," Beth explained, as she set out cups and saucers and poured the lemonade. Kit fumbled for her pen and notepad, having half forgotten why she was here.

"It's so lovely here. Thank you for inviting me," Kit began, "My other interviews were all on military bases—how did you get permission to do the interview in your home?"

"There's no other place to do it." Beth said, "The WASP program was discontinued on December twentieth of last year—the result of the defeat of a bill in Congress that would have giving us military status if it had passed." She gave a quick smile adding, "I'm still mighty pleased to represent the girls though."

"Oh goodness," Kit said, her eyes widening, "Why did they discontinue it?"

"Our leadership wanted us to be a separate corps, headed by a female colonel, like the other military branches had, but the War Department didn't take a shine to that. In the beginning they preferred that we join the Air WAAC officers that were assigned to flying duties, but that wasn't possible."

"Then there was a lobby by male pilots because some training schools and commissioning programs for them had been shut down due to our presence. Finally, on June 5, 1944, the Ramspeck Committee—they're part of the House Committee on Civil Service—came back with a report that the WASP program was unnecessary and unjustifiably expensive. They recommended that our training be halted and that, of course, was that."

"That's too bad," Kit murmured, suddenly feeling uncomfortable after having talked with two other girls whose units had been thoroughly successful.

Beth shrugged, "It happens. I'm proud to have been a part of it while it lasted."

"Why wouldn't the WAC take you on?"

"It was the WAAC back then," Beth reminded her, "I trust you know about that?"

Kit nodded.

"Their Director Hobby said that they didn't have the proper funding to pay our pilots and they couldn't get proper funding without legal changes to their program. The WAAC, she said, had had enough trouble getting past Congressional prejudice against women in the Army without having to ask for more funding, so she thought it best not to take us."

Kit took a sip of her lemonade, "Now that we've established how the WASP ended, tell me how it got started?"

"The WASP is a combination of two separate programs. The WAFS, or Women's Air Flying Squadron, and the WFTD, or Women's Flying Training Detachment. Both programs were headed by famous pilots, Nancy Hawkness Love headed the WAFS and the WFTD was directed by Jacqueline Cochran. Have you heard of them?"

Kit hesitated, thinking, then said, "Maybe in passing. I'm sorry."

Beth waved her hand, "No matter. Jackie and Nancy are famous for their exploits before this dreadful war, and that gave them the influence that they needed to start their programs. I've known them both on an acquaintance level since I started flying, but I joined Jackie's program because it was a better fit for me. I got to fly _and_ train younger pilots."

"Anyway," she said, coming back to the point, "Both women thought that having female pilots take over noncombatant roles would free up more men for combat duties. I bet you've heard that before, right?"

"Yes," Kit acknowledged, smiling.

Beth said, "Most noncombatant duties consisted of ferrying planes from the factory to the airfields. Jackie and Nancy's ideas fell on all but deaf ears in 1939 and 1940, but in 1941—and that's before Pearl Harbor—Jackie renewed her effort and finally met a little success. The Commanding General of the Army Air Force, General Harold Arnold asked her to help deliver a twin engine bomber to Britain as part of the lend-lease program."

"She was the first woman to fly a military aircraft across the Atlantic, even though they still didn't let her takeoff or land."

"While she was in London, Jackie spent time with British women pilots who were ferrying plans around the British Isles. She was so impressed with their program that upon her return to the States she held a press conference to express her ideas again. Soon after, with all the publicity that she'd garnered, the President and First Lady invited her to lunch to discuss her ideas and shortly thereafter she got permission to research the feasibility of her idea."

Beth continued, "She went on to propose that the most experienced pilots should begin ferrying planes immediately and girls with less experience should have extra training at a flying school. She asked General Arnold himself to head the program, but he turned her down, reasoning that there weren't enough girls with proper flight experience and thinking that the cost of training the proper numbers couldn't be justified."

"He did, however, throw her a carrot, promising to let her head such a program if one ever got off the ground—no pun intended."

Beth continued, "He farther advised her to help the Brits, who badly needed us to send pilots for noncombatant ferrying missions, and she followed his advice, taking twenty-five women volunteers to London and joining the British Air Transport Auxiliary—or ATA. She told me once that she wanted that mission to serve as an example of what we girls could do for this country."

A reflective look crossed her face as she sank into her own memories, "Jackie was in Britain when Pearl Harbor was hit and that attack found us woefully unprepared for war, especially war on several fronts. Our factories worked day and night to make thousands of planes, but they still needed to be ferried to our airfields and the guys were needed to fly combat missions. Major General Robert Olds—he's was the head of the Army Air Corps Ferrying Command—got in quite a lurch, so he began to consider hiring civilian pilots—both male and female. When General Arnold found out, he forbade the hiring of female pilots until Jackie returned from Britain. Not many months later, in May 1942, he visited Jackie to discuss her ideas for using female pilots. He wanted her to return to the States to head it, but she couldn't because she had to finish her commitment to the ATA."

Beth paused to take a long sip of her lemonade and gave Kit a wry smile, "Enter the other side of the coin."

"In June 1942, while Jackie was still in Britain, Nancy's husband, Major Robert Love, met with Colonel William Turner, the commanding officer of the ferrying command, and told him of his wife's ideas for creating a female pilot's squad to ferry planes. Colonel Turner took the idea to Brigadier General Harold George, who had just replaced General Olds, and the two agreed to get the ball rolling." Beth paused before delivering the punch line,"The only problem was that both men were unaware of General Arnold's prohibition on such a unit until Jackie returned."

"Nancy was smart; to guard against prejudice of women in the military, she said that her group would work as civilians, only ferry the smallest military planes, and that they should have two and a half times as many hours of flight experience as the guys—that's five hundred instead of two hundred." Beth paused briefly, thinking, "Oh yes, she said that her girls would take lower pay too."

"To make a long story shorter," she continued, trying to wrap up her explanation, "I'll just say that the WAFS was created due to some confusion between General George and General Arnold and when Jackie came home, they couldn't undo the order without bad publicity, so they gave her permission to start the WFDT alongside Nancy's program."

"Jackie's program was broader in scope. She wanted her girls, who generally had less flight experience than Nancy's group, to have military training. Afterward, they could ferry planes or take on other non-combat jobs."

"The two programs operated independently," she said, concluding her explanation, "until 1943, when General Arnold ordered that they be merged with Jackie as director. Nancy stayed on as executive in charge of ferrying operations though."

"Well," Kit sighed, "That's strange, but I guess it worked out." She moved on, "When I interviewed the WAC and the WAVE, they said that their units were popular to sign with; is that true of the WASP?"

"Well, 25,000 women applied for the program, but only 1,830 were accepted, and only 1,074 got their wings. We were a small unit that didn't fly for long."

"What were the other things that you did besides ferrying planes from the factories to wherever they needed them?"

"Besides flying every type and size of military aircraft," Beth explained, "we towed targets, letting the air and ground gunners shoot at us with live ammo." She smirked, "It was a little nerve-wrecking at first, but once I got some confidence in our gunners, it was sort of fun—in a weird way."

"We also tested newly overhauled planes. You know, to make sure that they were safe for the boys to fly. I was able to do it all, plus teach some classes."

They shared a laugh about testing overhauled planes, then Kit posed an increasingly uncomfortable question, "The WAC and the WAVE said that their units were integrated. Is that true of the WASP?"

"No," Beth answered simply, "Two Chinese-Americans pilots, Hazel Ying Lee and Maggie Gee and one Oglala Sioux pilot, Ola Mildred Rexroat, flew in the unit, but the WASP didn't accept women of color. Hazel died in a runway collision, but Maggie and Ola survived."

"Gosh, did a lot of girls die?" Kit asked.

"Thirty-eight," Beth responded, "Their families didn't get to display a gold star though, given our lack of military status."

Kit looked pained, but pressed ahead, "That reminds me of something. From what I learned from the WAC and the WAVE, not having military status would complicate things for you more than not being recognized for your service. What were the other difficulties?"

"At first, since we didn't have military status, we weren't entitled to any care from the military—not uniforms—we always looked like a ragtag bunch. Not medical—not even an onsite ambulance. Not housing, we had to find and pay our own way. Not flags on our coffins when we died. And now that the war is over, we don't get veteran's status." Beth sighed, "We eventually got uniforms and the towns where we flew let us barrow ambulances, but as far as official recognition, that will have to be taken up by future generations."

"Perhaps someone will change the WASP's status in the future," Kit said hopefully, "and the girls that need help can officially get it."

Beth took a sip of her lemonade, "Perhaps."

"Where did the WASP have their base of operations," Kit asked.

"The WAFS began in Wilmington, Delaware and the WFTD started out at Houston's Municipal Airport, but eventually we all settled onto Avenger Field outside Sweetwater Texas," Beth replied, "It was the largest all-female base in American history. Each class of new WASPs came in at monthly intervals. Eighteen classes in 1943 and ten in 1944. Our training paralleled that of the guys, but our emphasis was on cross-country flying and we didn't do any gunnery or flight formation training."

"Was it difficult to train more experienced pilots alongside newer ones?"

"At first, the courses were scheduled to be four months, but that wasn't set in stone due to each girl's amount of previous training. Our leadership ask that we have a hundred fifteen hours of flight training and hundred eighty hours of ground instruction, but by the end of the first year, we'd begun taking on less experienced pilots so, obviously, the training was revised. By the end of 1943, the course ran twenty-seven weeks with two hundred ten hours of flight time required. In 1944, the course was expanded again to thirty weeks."

Suddenly, Beth stiffened in her chair, "My word, time sure flies when you're reminiscing—I hear my husband's truck coming down the road."

"Did you have time for one more question?" Kit asked anxiously.

"Of course," Beth answered, "Even if he comes in before we're done, he won't interrupt."

"What did you do on your most interesting day at work?"

"Oh that's hard," Beth exclaimed with a big laugh, "I had so many interesting days. I suppose it would have to be the time that I was testing an old bomber. When I landed, the brakes failed and I skidded right into a lake." She grinned, "Obviously, I wasn't hurt."

* * *

**Author's Notes**: The WASP interview was the one that inspired this whole story, but due to a slight mix-up on my part, I did the WAC chapter first. Last December I was invited to a Lion's Club dinner to raise money for homeless veterans in my area. Our guest speaker was supposed to be an aide to our Congressman but, due to bad weather, he couldn't leave Washington on time. We ended up entertaining ourselves by having the veterans in attendance tell us their stories. One very small woman stood up and told us about her days as a WASP. The mistake was that somewhere since last December, I got it into my head that she had been a WAC. The line about testing planes to make sure that they were safe for the guys was from her story.

Here again, I blended truth and fiction. Elizabeth Logan gets her name from the two main characters from Nicolas Sparks' book, "The Lucky One" and the "most interesting day" bit was completely made up.

**A Look Back**: WASP records were sealed for 35 years, but in 1975, Gen. George Arnold's son, Col. Bruce Arnold, began helping the WASP gain official recognition for their service. The records were unsealed in 1977 and that same year, President Carter signed a bill granting the WASP full military status, with all the benefits and privileges therein. In 2009, President Obama awarded the unit the Congressional Gold Medal, with three WASP on hand to witness the event.


End file.
